


The Mechanic, The Conman and The Hundred Dollar Promise

by Pepperoni Tony (EscapingRapture)



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: First Date, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapingRapture/pseuds/Pepperoni%20Tony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fox and a coyote walk into a bar, the coyote tells a few jokes and a few coincidental encounters makes the fox wish he stayed home. Alternate Title: Gay Fox Realizes Just How Gay He Is. Rated for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Downtown Zootopia**

**4:59 PM**

"I hear those things take ya breath away." Chirped a way too cheery voice from Cyrus' left.

The red fox growled as the aforementioned cigarette, newly lit, sat haphazardly between his lips. He was leaning against the brick wall of the outside of his garage, taking a quick smoke break while the other mammals inside worked on what few cars had showed up that day.

"Yeah? I hear a plastic bag over your head does the same thing." He took a drag of his cancer stick. Something fluttered in his chest at the laugh the snappy remark elicited from the coyote.

Before him stood the man known as Alex Yoti, local comedian/magician/sleazy conman, known mostly for the sleazy conman part. A very handsome man in many regards, he had rich dark brown fur with golden amber eyes that hid mischief in them. To be fair Cyrus was a handsome man as well, just rough around the edges. He was a red fox who perpetually looked like someone had kicked the shit out of him (regularly partaking in fight clubs would do that); bags always stayed heavy under his eyes and his signature scowl never seemed to leave his face.

“What do you want Alex?” He asked after a second drag, crossing his arms tightly over his once bright blue jumpsuit that was now dulled by various stains that could be tied back to any fluid that went in or came out of a vehicle. His slicked back hair was protected under a dark blue snapback, by the time he took the hat off at the end of the workday his typically voluminous hair was flattened and lifeless. He could manage though, it was easy to fluff it back up; getting synthetic grease out of it was a bitch however. His current ensemble was a contrast to what the coyote was wearing, an obviously new plaid shirt accented by a pair of knock-off designer sunglasses that were pushed up onto his head and a black bowtie. Alex wore a large grin and his amber eyes lit up when they met with Cyrus’ disinterested half-lidded yellow ones. It irked Cyrus slightly that he had to look down to address him, Cyrus was a small man compared to the tall and fit canine standing next to him, his below average height for a male fox could be attributed to certain aspects of his biology and his diet of coffee, energy drinks, and cigarettes.

“What makes you think I want anything Cy?” The coyote asked, moving so that he was leaning on his shoulder against the building, arms stuffed into the pockets of his denim pants. “Maybe I just came to see what's goin' on, see how my good friend Cy 'The Guy' is d-“

“I’ll ask again, what do you want?” Cyrus snarled again, glaring daggers into the other man. The coyote just smiled, keeping his eyes on the fox before replying.

"Well in truth I came to see if you'd go on a date with me my dude." The coyote chimed, adjusting his bow tie and flashing his toothy grin.

"So ya need a ride somewhere then." Cyrus stated, chewing on the end of his cigarette. Before continuing he took a quick, sloppy drag without grabbing hold of his cigarette. “Where?"

"New comedy club opened at Savanna Central, wanted to scout it out, y'know?"

"Make Aster take ya." Aster, a mutual friend the two shared, was a prissy arctic fox who Cyrus was convinced was made of the pure essence of snarky comments.

"Pretty boy's outta town for some fashion meet-up."

"Take a bus."

"I don't much care for buses."

"Walk."

"But it's so far away from my apartment. I don't t'ink I can walk dat fa' Cywus." He jutted his lower lip out slightly, comically quivering it as he gave Cyrus the most pitiful puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.

"You walked here didn't you?"

"A few city blocks are not the same as the next district and a half over."

"Well I’m so sorry, but I'm kinda in the middle of somethin'," he emphasized with a thumb pointing behind him towards his garage. "It's called actually havin' a job."

"I didn't mean now, duh.” He flicked the smaller man’s ear. “I meant tonight, you know, when you're not at your job.”

Cyrus shook his head immediately.

“Come on man, there'll be plenty of laughs, plenty of booze-"

"Not interested."

"-and $100 with your name on it." At that the Cyrus's black tipped ears perked. Now that’s what he liked to hear.

"Do ya pay most people to go places and pretend to be your friend?" He quipped, sucking more smoke from his cancer stick, trying his hardest not to seem interested.

"No but I do pay people for taking me where I need to go, gas is pretty expensive, yeah?"

Cyrus mulled it over in his head; he wasn't really a fan of bars, comedy bars of all places, but he did like the sound of booze, but he loved the sound of money even more.

"You do know I ain't got a car right?" Cyrus remarked, quirking his fuzzy eyebrow at the taller canine.

"That's alright, always wanted to ride a motorcycle anyways."

“You’d be ridin’ behind me too.”

“No place I’d rather be.” He emphasized with a wink, making Cyrus’ face feel a lot hotter. He swirled it around in his brain, thinking as he waited for the flush to leave his face, so very grateful that his fur was red. He took a few drags of his cigarette until it was nothing left but a butt, throwing it down and letting it burn out into a small pile of ash. He jerked his head toward the garage.

“We close in two hours but I can get the rest of these cars done in one, I can send the boys home early and get everything closed up and head home to get changed.” The coyote’s eyes lit up as he let out an excited noise, slapping a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, which elicited a small growl from Cyrus, a growl that was ignored.

“Ha! ‘Bout time you started livin’ a little!” He did finger guns at Cyrus as he began walking backwards. “I’ll pick ya up at 7 o’clock, not a second later babe.” The “babe” made Cyrus’ blood boil, but it at the same time it felt kind of nice. He tilted his chin up in response, shoving paws into his jumpsuit’s front pockets. Walking through the large garage door he received a few greetings, a grunt from Reggie, the large rhino who didn’t say much to begin with, and a sarcastic “about time you showed up” from Jayesh, a tiger that had known Cyrus since they were kids. At this Cyrus merely stuck his tongue out childishly and went to finish the car he had started, nothing major: oil change, tire rotation, child's play.

The rest of his workday went by about as fast as he expected, what was left was finished, the vehicles left were returned to their owners and his workers were more than happy to get out of the shop early. Jayesh was the only one willing to hang around and help the fox close up; of course it wasn’t as if it was a two person job.

"I saw you talking to that coyote earlier, what was that about?" Jayesh asked, quirking a brow and smirking at his smaller friend.

"The chucklehead wants me ta take him ta some new comedy club or whatever." Cyrus replied, locking the entrance to the shop behind him.

"New one over the the Savanna I take it?" Cyrus nodded, pulling out his crushed cigarette box from his pocket and plucking one out with his mouth. "My my, little Cyrus is going on a date with another guy, a conman coyote at that." Jayesh purred playfully, slapping a big paw to his smaller friend's should.

Cyrus was halfway through striking a match when the statement made him halt. He kept silent a moment to process his thoughts, turning his head to look his friend in the eye. Maybe he could play it off.

"What's that supposed ta mean?" He asked between the cigarette trapped in his teeth. "You think that this is a  _date_?" Sure the coyote had joked about it at first being a date, but obviously that wasn't serious, at least he hadn't acted like he was. Then again when did he ever act serious? He finished his strike, bringing the red head of the match to life, never letting his glare leave the tiger as he lit his cigarette. "If ya think fer a minute I'm going on a date with that jerk. . . He's giving me money for it, okay? Does that sound like a date?"

"It does, also makes you sound like a hooker." Jayesh chuckled.

"Oh shut up.” He took a puff before adding. "Fuck dating." He murmured, making his way past the tiger, Jayesh following behind.

"Really?" Jayesh asked nonchalantly, his friend's answer wasn’t much of a surprise. "So I take it you're going to stop trying with Sylvia then?"

The fox's blood ran cold, the man feeling his heart stop, but he did not stop walking despite his legs turning into jelly beneath him. "What makes you think I was even trying in the first place?" At this Jayesh was silent, Cyrus turned back to look at him over his shoulder, seeing nothing but concern plaster his childhood friend's face. Concern was not a look Jayesh wore often either, it looked unnatural on him. "It just. . . It didn't work out man, I wasn't feeling it, y'know? Me an' her, we're still friends and all. It's all good." Jayesh stared at him a few seconds before letting out a deep breath.

"Well at least you guys are still friends." Jayesh gave him a toothy smile and Cyrus sighed with relief internally.

"Heh yeah. Women's trouble anyways." He joked half-heartedly, feeling even more relieved when Jayesh laughed along with him.

He was greeted with the sleek black motorcycle that sat in the far corner of the parking lot, a white convertible sitting next to it, its driver side facing the back tire of the bike. Cyrus put out his cigarette as soon as he reached his bike, having again sucked it down to nothing but a small butt. He considered starting another one but shook it off, there was a long night awaiting him and he'd need to preserve the pack he had. The tiger opened the door to his white car before putting his fist out which Cyrus promptly bumped with his own smaller one, a silent goodbye that had been the ritual for them since their younger days. Satisfied with it he flipped a pair of sunglasses open and put them on before boarding his car. Cyrus' hat was shoved away in one of the side bags as a glossy black helmet took its place, giving Jayesh a nod before flipping the visor down over his eyes. Cyrus watched His friend leave first, the tacky bumper stickers (his favorite of course being "How's my driving? 1-800-Bite-Me") and the cheesy rearview mirror dice fading from his view quickly. He was the next one off, bringing his engine to life and kicking the stand out, wasting no time in departing as his bike zipped onto the road in no time flat.

_Alright Cyrus, let's hope this evening doesn't end up with you in jail._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written the feelings associated with gender dysphoria before, any hints or critiques are welcome. Also I've had this written up for a few months now and I'm just now posting it whoops.

**Northeast Downtown**

**6:32 PM**

 

Cyrus pulled into his usual parking spot in front of Fox Lodge Apartments, his home sweet home (at least that's what the sign in the lobby of the building said). He parked his bike with care and gave the seat a pat before making his way inside, helmet under one of his arms as his other digging around in his pocket. He checked his mailbox first before heading upstairs, surprisingly nothing, not even a surprise bill or one of those annoying "to the resident of" cards. The wooden stairs squeaked under him as he made his way up to his apartment at the end of the hall on the sixth and last floor, muttering greetings as other residents passing him said theirs. Many of the residents were the chatty type which Cyrus just attributed to them being older. When he made himself appear busy however, such as pretending to pick through his key ring as he was now they hardly ever bothered him. Present. He wasn't much in a chatty mood, not that he really ever was, and a dull itch at the back of his brain began to get in his nerves. He should've stayed outside a bit longer and had a smoke.

A minute later with him now at the top of the winding stairs he made his way to the end of the hall where he was quick to get his key in the lock. With a turn of his key and a bit of jiggling he finally got his door open. He reached inside and flipped the lights on, the single ceiling light in the center of the room flickering a few times before illuminating the small living room in a soft light. Cyrus didn't have much in the way of furniture; a small bookcase to the left of the door, in it some vinyls were held, stack of old magazines, and a few picture frames lined the top, mostly family, one though was tipped over to lay in its face, he wasn't quite sure why though but he didn't really care that much at the present moment. In the center of the room a futon that acted as a couch, a coffee table across from it was thoroughly covered in water rings, empty cigarette boxes, and an ashtray overflowing with butts. A cheap television set sat on an even cheaper entertainment stand in the corner, various DVDs and DVD cases strung out under it. Off to his right was a small kitchen separated by a bar, a lot cleaner than the coffee table seeing as it only housed a small coffee maker, a few mugs and some empty TV dinner trays which were stacked neatly off to the side. A small hallway off to his left lead to his bedroom and bathroom. Cyrus shut the door behind, inhaling deeply at the smell he had become far too accustomed to. Burnt coffee, dirty clothes and stale cigarette smoke. Truly his home sweet home.

As soon as he knew the door was shut behind him a cigarette was situated between his lips and lit in one swift motion, the cravings that gnawed at him slowly being satiated with each drag. Gripping the cigarette between his teeth his hands unzipped his jumpsuit and he quickly shed it, letting it pool around his feet leaving him in only his undershirt and a pair of black briefs. He picked his phone from one of the pockets before kicking the jumpsuit into a pile of clothes leaning against his makeshift couch. He flipped it open, checking the time and absentmindedly checking the messages. There was one message, which came as a bit of a surprise to him. He opened it and sighed to himself when he read it.

_**"From: Annoying** _

**Can't wait for our date tonight** **! XOXO <3**

_**Received 5:06 PM** _ **"**

_Oh, from him._

With one hand holding his cigarette in place his other went to work typing out a late reply.

 

**" _To: Annoying_**

**that makes 1 of us**

_**Sent 6:37 PM** _ **"**

Not a minute later and he got a reply.

 

**" _From: Annoying_**

**< 3**

_**Received 6:37 PM** _ **"**

Cyrus cracked a small smile at this and was very grateful no one was around to see.

He was about to flip his phone closed before another message graced his screen.

**" _From: Annoying_**

**Proof I'm not cheating you.**

_**Received 6:38** _ **"**

Cyrus quirked a brow. What was that supposed to mean? His phone vibrated and chirped, alerting him of yet another message. He looked at the picture that was sent to him, a crisp $100 was the main focus, being held under the coyote's nose like a mustache, said coyote winking at the camera with a large toothy grin on his face. 

 

**" _To: Annoying_**

**idiot**

_**Sent 6:39** _ **"**

 

Shutting his phone and tossing it haphazardly onto his coffee table he made his way back to his bathroom. His bathroom was a lot cleaner than one would expect, at least cleaner than his living area, the white tiles were polished a shining white, only a few smudged with blood or oil or whatever happened to drip onto them. The porcelain fixtures had seen better days but were still usable, the inside of the sink stained red on the inside from one particularly bad brawl the fox had had. The fox stood in front of his mirror, looking himself over as he puffed away on his cigarette. He licked the index and thumb of one of his hands and pulled slightly at the small tuft of hair on his chin, his "beard" as he liked to call it. Of course a tuft was a tuft, the colder weather as of late attributing to him growing a longer coat, but he still liked to believe it was because his body finally realized what a macho masculine man he really was. He went from his beard to adjusting the fur on the top of his head, one of the only aspects of himself that he took great care in. It had been flattened by the hat and helmet but it's nothing a combing through couldn’t fix. Cigarette gripped tightly between his teeth his hands went to work meticulously and lovingly bringing his fur back to life, fluffing it up into a small cowlick in no time flat. Honestly he had turned this into an art form; he had often considered ditching the whole mechanic thing and trying his hand at being a fur stylist.

Satisfied with his work he snubbed out his butt on the ashtray on the back of his toilet and debated whether or not to brush his teeth or not. Ultimately he gargled a minty mouthwash for a few seconds and decided that would be just fine. He double checked his pierced ear too, deciding to just leave the black hoop in, saved him the trouble of scouring for another earring. 

Bathroom stuff complete he started back towards the living area before something caught his eye, the mirror on the closet next to the bathroom's exit. He often avoided looking at it when he was in undress, he was conflicted whether or not he should take it down or not opting to keep it up anyways so he could more easily see the progress once he could finally get his hands on the hormones he so desired. But here he was, staring once again at a body he wished would change ever since he was young. Small shoulders, wide hips, the slightest of curves hidden just beneath a white undershirt, the lack of a bulge in the front of his briefs; that was the part that irked him the most. Ugh, maybe he should just take it down after all. 

He scowled at himself, exiting quickly back into his living space. The nearest pile of clothes were immediately dug into, not taking the fox long to find what he was seeking; he balled up the foot wrapping before shoving it into his briefs. He hurried back to the bathroom mirror, viewing himself from all angles. He found that it stuck out a bit too far, for obvious reasons it looked awkward. This was not the first time he had done something like this so he knew where adjustments were needed to make his artificial bulge look as natural as possible. It wasn't a real dick but it was as close as he could get for now. Aster had told him that they made fakes for his type of situation, packers they called them, he'd have to look into those at some point. They still weren't the real thing but they were leagues better than a smelly foot wrap.

Satisfied with how he fixed it he observed himself once more, smirking as he looked at his profile. No one ever caught him in his underwear so no one ever caught a glimpse at his handiwork when it came to creating the illusion of him having a dick, it was more for him anyways. After all it’s not like he had anyone to impress.

He made his way out of the bathroom and began the process of getting clothes on. A pair of pants were grabbed from a pile next to his couch, a pair of black jeans with ripped up knees. To that he added a black hoodie with a faded canine shaped skull and crossbones, pulling it over his head being very mindful of his hair that thankfully puffed back out when it was through the head hole. He considered foot wrappings but decided against it, he had only one clean pair at the moment and one of them was stuffed in his underwear right now.

He straightened his clothes and tried to free them from wrinkles, the hoodie smelled a bit questionable so he sprayed a bit of cheap cologne on for good measure. But something still felt like it was missing. . . He looked to his futon where he knew the final piece to his ensemble. Carefully draped over the back was his favorite article of clothing, the scarred and worn pleather jacket, the studded shoulders shining brightly in the dim light. Perfect.

He grabbed it and slipped it on over his hooded sweater, fixing the collar, popping it out as he had a thousand times before. Yep, this was what his outfit needed. He had it snugly on when there was a rap at his door. He quirked a brow before nabbing his phone from the futon, flipping it open to check the time. Yep, his suspicion was confirmed, the bright "6:50 PM" greeted him on the home screen.

"You're early, ass." He called, making his way over to the door. 

"Oh my dear Cyrus, I was just so excited, I just couldn't bear being apart from you any longer!" He called back dramatically. Cyrus ripped the door open, sighing when he saw the coyote leaning back, forearm over his eyes in his overdramatic display. One of the residents peaked his head out to see what the commotion was, shaking his head disapprovingly and muttering something about annoying neighbors before closing his door back.

"Are ya done?" The fox asked, glazed over eyes staring the other down. Alex grinned and brought himself to stand up straight and look down slightly to match the shorter man's gaze. 

"What, done being a cry baby or done thinking of new ways of embarrassing you? Either way, nah." Well, that was to be expected.

Cyrus sighed. "Whatever. You got my money?"

"Mr. Redd, this is about more than money, this is about two men growing closer and strengthening their bond as friends."

"That don't answer my question."

"You'll get your money when you drop me off at my house tonight, alright?" The coyote hummed.  "Incentive."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're the type to get the money he was promised and drive off—alone -- leaving my ass stranded districts away from my apartment." The fox had to give the other some credit he did pin him down to a T.

"Fine. I'm ready then, whenever you are." The fox said, turning around and walking over to his abandoned jumpsuit, digging his current pack of cigarettes and his wallet out of the pockets, shoving them into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Ready for what, a funeral?" The coyote asked, taking a step inside. "We're goin' to a comedy club, not a sale at Hot Pawpic. Just look at me." He said, motioning down at what he was wearing causing Cyrus to look over his shoulder. The coyote hadn't changed clothes as much as he changed colors. His shirt was now a white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jeans were a lighter color than the pair he wore previously that day, and his bow tie was a vibrant red with a fake black jewel in the middle. Really the only thing new to his outfit was a pair of red suspenders.

"You'll hafta forgive me it's not as if this is exactly my scene." He turned around fully now, staring wide eyed now that he realized that the coyote had invited himself in and was halfway inside his apartment, looking the entire place up and down.

"Not much for house keepin' are you?" He joked, nudging a soda can with his foot.

"Hey did I say you could come in?" The fox nearly snarled, glaring at the side of the coyote's head as he turned to further observe the man's apartment.

"You didn't say I _couldn't_ come in." He chimed. “I always wondered what your place looked like." He flashed his toothy grin in Cyrus' direction. "And wouldn't you know, about what I expected, never do you fail to disappoint."

"Bite me. Are we going to go or not?"

"In a second squirt, I just want to observe your cozy living space." He looked around some more, observing various wall hangings of vintage cars. "Hey so this place is called 'Fox Lodge' right? Well I could've sworn I saw a hedgehog going into one of the apartments when I was co-- Oooh precious family memories!" He made a beeline for the shelf when he saw all the pictures on top of it. Cyrus groaned, annoyed first by the dumb joke the coyote was attempting to make, and groaning even louder when he realized the other had seen his small photograph collection.

The first picture was of him and his sister when they were much younger, making silly faces at the camera, one was him and Jayesh first opening the shop together, another was his parent's wedding picture, the original, his mother tried disposing of it during the divorce many years ago but he dug it out of the trash and cared for it since. All standard stuff you'd expect to see in someone's picture collection. While he wasn't in many of them the ones he was in sans the one with Jayesh had him dressed more femininely, wearing actual blouses he kept tucked away in his closet only for them to be brought out in occasions like these photos. He expected Alex to question them but deep down he knew he wouldn't, like all his other friends Alex knew about Cyrus. Even then Alex was looking at photos of a playful young girl, her head in the clouds and her clear vibrant yellow eyes always wide-eyed and full of wonder. Thank god she was long dead. 

"I take it you scrapped a lot in your youth too?" Was the only question that came from the coyote.

"Huh?" Alex pointed to the picture of Cyrus and his sister and the fox understood what he meant. The photo had been taken a few days after one playground argument got out of hand, a black eye and a healing busted lip testament to that.

"Oh, yeah. I scrapped a bit as a kid but never really fought for enjoyment, just kinda defendin' myself, y'know?"

"Here I thought you were always fueled by bloodlust. Color me surprised."

"How about you save your shitty jokes or you won't have any left for the club." The fox remarked, making his way towards the door.

"That's where you're wrong as I have plenty of shitty jokes to spare." The coyote said, looking over the pictures once more before one in particular caught his eye. Alex reached over all the others to pick up the one in the very back, the picture on its face, bringing it to himself to get a better look. He let out a high pitched whistle of approval causing the fox to turn back around. Before he could ask what the deal was Alex turned the picture around in his hands to show Cyrus. The coyote wiggled his eyebrows at his shorter companion.

"And who is this, hmm?"  He asked, smirking widely. Cyrus stared at the picture, the very second his eyes saw it he froze. The picture was of him and another fox, a vixen with long cream colored fur, dark tan markings painted her lighter cream face as they circled her bright turquoise eyes and came down the sides of her snout to connect with her black nose, a single brown mark specked her below her left eye. She was smiling wide, perfectly white teeth practically sparkling, and her arm was wrapped tightly around Cyrus' shoulder, pulling him close so they could mash cheeks together. Cyrus had his arms crossed over his chest but even he was smiling, one of the most genuine smiles he had ever seen himself give. A thousand knives pierced his heart at once.

"She's. . . My friend." He managed to say past the growing lump in my throat.

"Your _girl_ friend?" The coyote teased, raising his eyebrows at the fox.

"No." Cyrus was quick with his reply, obviously too quick by the way Alex's smirk grew.

"Oh? You sure about that bud?" He wiggled his eyebrows yet again. At this Cyrus growled, grabbing the picture from the conman's grasp and slamming it back down on the shelf. At the sudden action Alex put his hands up defensively in but his expression did not change.

"I said no." Cyrus growled, grabbing his keys from the shelf. "Now let's go." He turned quickly, opening his door and storming down the hall. "Lock it behind you!" He called from the other end of the hall. Alex stood where he was for a moment, staring down at the again face down frame of the picture before following.

He double checked that the door locked behind him before casually making his way down the hall and then the stairs, his paws stuffed into his jeans pockets. The two met back up with in the lobby. The fox was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, picking a piece of gum out of a package he pulled out of his jacket. As he saw the coyote approaching he stuffed it back into his jacket pocket, standing up straight.

"Oh don't worry Cy, I'll still give ya a kiss even if your breath smells like shit." The coyote winked at the fox only to earn a scowl from the other.

"If ya must know it's not a good idea ta smoke on a motorcycle, this at least helps with the oral fixation part." The fox jerked his head towards the door before heading towards them, Alex once more following behind. The two walked out into the evening air and made a bee-line for his bike. Upon arriving Cyrus unhooked his helmet from the handlebars and threw it at the coyote.

"See if that fits." He said as he began to straddle the bike.

"And what will you wear?" The conman asked, pulling the helmet on. It was on the tight side but that was to be expected. "Or is your head hard enough it doesn't require protection?"

"Just get on." He emphasized with a thumb pointing backwards at the seat behind him. The conman shrugged before complying. Once on the bike he wrapped one arm around the fox's torso, pointing forward with the other. "Onward my knight!"

The fox growled and pried the man's arm off of him.

"Hands off." Cyrus growled back at the coyote before he put the key into the ignition and brought his bike. Instead of pushing him like he usually would Alex actually took his hands back, instead putting them behind his to grip into the back of the seat.

"Whatever ya say boss." Cyrus was the slightest bit surprised seeing as Alex's mere existence seemed to be to annoy him. He gnashed his gum between his teeth as he began to pull the bike out of its spot, zooming out of the parking lot with agile skill. 

A sinking feeling began to gnaw at Cyrus' stomach, his chest gaining an all too familiar hollow feeling. He would come to regret tonight, he could feel it. But for whatever reason, deep down he knew that his coyote companion would not be the cause.

**Author's Note:**

> Critiques welcome <3


End file.
